My Poof
by SwarmOfFanGirls
Summary: Michael goes to visit Billy after 5 years apart. Slash: Billy/Michael.


**Title: My Poof**

**Story: Billy Elliot [film]**

**Pairing: Billy/Michael**

**Rating: Average: only a small mention of mature magazines -wiggles eyebrows-**

**Warnings: Gay sixteen year old lads :)**

**A/N: Awwwh, just watched Billy Elliot three times in three days… forgot how flippin' brilliant it is!! It made me want to create some slash after squeeing over the two kissing scenes :') So, here it is!! **

* * *

Teeth chattering, Michael took a step backwards, waiting for his best friend, Billy, to answer. He hadn't seen him in years: five years to the day. Not that he was counting or anything.

Finally, a tall figure answered the door, sandy blond hair hanging over his blue eyes, "Michael!" he breathed, before launching out of the warmth to hug his friend.

"Billy," Michael whispered, tightening his hold on him, relishing the feeling. He never got to tell Billy how he felt. It was only after he left to go to learn ballet did he realise his feelings for his Dancing Boy.

"Come in, man, it's fuckin' freezing out here," Billy exclaimed, pulling him in by their entwined hands.

Michael could only laugh with relief: his Billy hadn't changed a bit.

"So how's the ballet doing?" he asked as Billy led them to his living room/kitchen. He looked around, noting all of the certificates showing his achievements in dancing.

"Awesome," Billy grinned, pulling Michael down on the couch with him, "I love it: everyone's in the same boat and all that, met some great people, like, although no one compared to you, 'course," he added, smiling at Michael.

"Aw, cheers mate," Michael blushed, wishing for Billy to mean it in another way.

"So how's things 'round your end?" Billy asked. Michael noted he still kept hold of his hand, and none of them were objecting to it.

"Same old," Michael replied, still gazing at their hands, "No one quite like you either."

He looked up in time to see Billy's face split into a grin, "We should've kept in touch or summit!" he exclaimed.

"Aye, I know," Michael agreed, shyly stroking his thumb along the back of Billy's hand, loving the feeling of electricity running through his veins as he did so.

"D'ya want ought to drink?" Billy asked, reluctantly pulling his hand away and standing up, "Coke? Juice?"

"Anything," he said, already missing the contact.

As Billy arranged the drinks, Michael's eyes strayed to the floor, his mind on other things. He didn't realise until he was staring at it for a while that a magazine was stashed under the rug, the edge peeking out. Glancing at Billy, he quickly swiped it out and his eyes widened as he realised it had a picture of two very-naked guys in an intimate position.

"Here you are, mate."

Shite. Billy had returned.

"Ah. I see you found me porn," Billy whispered, setting the drinks down on the table.

Michael nodded, biting his lip, "Since when were you a poof?"

Billy took a couple of breaths before answering, "When I left. It just dawned on us, you know?"

Michael was sure his heart was going to burst out of his chest any minute now at the news.

"So, any good looking lads out there?" he ventured, attempting to control his breathing.

"Aye…" he replied, "None that caught me eye, like, apart from one…" he trailed off, avoiding eye contact.

"Who?" Michael whispered, "What's he look like?"

Billy finally looked at Michael again, unnerving him slightly at how intense the gaze was.

"Dark hair that's always soft… these amazing blue eyes that y'can get lost in… and the couple o' times we kissed, it were like electricity, going through me at a million miles an 'our."

Michael opened his mouth a few times before murmuring, "Do I know him?"

"I would say you do," Billy replied, wetting his lips, his mouth parted, "I think you know him pretty well, like."

Blinking, Michael whimpered, confused. Surely he couldn't be implying that he liked _him_, of all people?!

"Me?" he managed to croak out, breathing deeply.

He watched as Billy's face crinkled with the force of his grin, his eyes alight, "I knew you'd get it."

And as if in slow motion, Michael watched as Billy leaned in, eyes fastened on his own still, before their lips finally met: soft, silky, smooth… _perfect_.

"Third time," Michael mumbled against his lips, eyes fluttering shut.

Billy pulled back for breath and brought his chin forward for another, "Fourth."

"If I could 'ave it my way, there'd be plenty more, Dancing Boy," Michael smirked, hands clutching his waist, wanting, _needing_, more of the electricity.

"Good," Billy grinned, resting his forehead against his, "I'm planning on it, ya poof."

"_Your_ poof," Michael corrected, stroking his sides.

"Aye," Billy smiled, melting his insides, turning them into jelly at the same time, "_My_ poof."

* * *

**THE END**

**A/N2: :3 It's how it should've ended. Although I don't mind it ending with Michael and his boyfriend [damn him!] going to watch Billy, and Michael being all cuddle-worthy by saying 'I wouldn't miss it for the world.' :') -Glomps-**

**R&R? 3**


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